


Like The Stars

by loyalnerdwp



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, POV First Person, Present Tense, The Great Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-10
Updated: 2012-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-09 13:32:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/455992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loyalnerdwp/pseuds/loyalnerdwp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I admire from afar, like I do the stars I could never care for like Alex Woodbridge did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like The Stars

_“Beautiful, isn’t it?”_

John Watson is a person that holds a desire to nurture and receive nurture in return. I am not a nurturing person. Whether this has to do with my upraising or my declared sociopathy, I do not know. Emotions like fear and sadness pass me by. John has been upset and I haven’t known what to do about it. I don’t know if he yet understands that.

John Watson is a man with the capability of reading right from wrong, whilst I am not. He is my moral compass at most times, stopping me in moments of pure euphoria coming down from the high of a case to interject a mild scolding. It’s often like he’s taking the time to admonish a young child who has tracked mud into the hall; simple discipline, but it helps in a way.

John Watson ties me to earth in a way indescribably desirably. Not often is there someone I find who wholeheartedly stands by my side - not once, really, if I think back far enough. The loyalty of a soldier and friend; how odd it is to think of it, that I, so distanced and disconnected, could have an actual friend. Someone who chooses to remain as such through all my misbehaving and misunderstanding of simple human notions.

John Watson is very human. He is very soft (in visage, at least); compassionate, I think the word is. Whilst I run and gather details and fact on cases, he is often the one who deals with ‘family affairs’; consoling parents of murdered children or comforting a new widow. To do this does not cross my mind - to be sensitive to a new emotional wound cut in someone’s mind seems like a waste of time. Why are they not able to simply forget? To move on because the deed is done? Their family is lost and there is nothing more to say on that matter. No amount of tears nor depression can fix this, but John has told me that it isn’t possible to just forget. Sentiment, I think he said. He seeks a relationship with women, rather than simply going out and finding someone to shag for a night. He wishes for more than just sex, clearly; domestic things like hands-holding and hugging, sneaking a kiss when he thinks no one is looking. I cannot imagine myself in such a position.

John Watson would not last in whatever mock-up scrap of a relationship I could offer him. I desire his company, his praise, his affection so poorly placed in me. I find his little habits somewhat endearing; how he licks his lips more than necessary, how he often forgets to comb down his hair before it dries and leaves it mussed and ridiculous looking, his almost concerning addiction to tea, and so on and forth. The list might possibly go on for hours, if given time to be thought out properly. In any case, the point is that I find companionship in John amiable, but I could not properly care for him. Love is just another emotion I see as dangerous, useless, a disadvantage, a weakness.

_“I thought you didn’t care about-”_

_“-Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it.”_

So I admire from afar, like I do the stars I could never care for like Alex Woodbridge did.

I hold a galaxy of longing for John Watson, but I do not wish to hurt him.

Sometimes, I think myself a simpleton.

**Author's Note:**

> I made this for a prompt on tumblr, but when it was finished it was one of so few pieces I was actually proud of. So, it found its way here.


End file.
